Secrets
by Ms Sticha
Summary: Even Commander Shepard can't keep all her secrets private. Takes place in ME1 post-Virmire.


An empty ship had a unique feel - a heavy, pregnant silence ripe with possibilities that suggested life flowed within the metal confines of its own accord so long as the crew wasn't around to impede. It was only possible to detect in utter stillness, the faint whispers almost audible in the night cycle when only an handful of people milled about, but never truly grasped until there was literally nobody else aboard. It was an eerie, lonely feeling most people weren't willing to face head-on, which was why nobody else thought to look there for Shepard after Udina tossed them aside so easily. But he knew better. Like a cat, she would retreat to lick her wounds in private, to spare innocent crew and civilians from her merited aggression.

The dark figure flitted about the swinging heavy bag, striking with force then bobbing and weaving with practiced perfection, proof his instincts were correct. Solitary footsteps echoed mutely off the metal grating in perfect syncopation with the rhythmic thuds and grunts from the far end of the cargo deck, masking his approach. He still had time to reverse course, to flee and avoid this conversation completely.

In a blink he was six again, staring wide-eyed at his father's silhouette dimly illuminated by festive Christmas lights. "Don't ask questions if you aren't prepared to hear the truth, Kaidan," the elder Alenko said evenly, giving the child one more chance to back out and save the little innocence that remained. Kaidan ignored the subtle warning all those years ago. He already knew the answer, he just needed to hear it from the source. Besides, every kid discovers the truth about Santa sooner or later.

This was different, though.

That realization stopped Kaidan dead in his tracks. If he pressed forward, if he insisted on this discussion, there'd be no going back. Things would never be the same. But could he continue on without knowing the truth? A single work station stood between him and his goal - a station kept in impeccable order, a station now without an owner. Emotions encircled his chest, squeezing the very breath from his body. Guilt and pain merged as one to tear through his heart, the mere image as powerful and injurious as a heated blade, the wounds still too new, too tender. There was no choice. This conversation had to happen, not just for him - them, but also for the owner of that empty station. The person whose very name caused an empty ache in his chest. He had to say something while the pain was still fresh, still pushing him on.

"Shepard," Kaidan called out from across the room, but she didn't respond. Only the faintest reactions, the clenching of her jaw, the pause in her attack, gave away the fact that she'd heard him at all. That was good enough for him. "What Udina did back there… and the Council…"

"I don't want to talk about it," Shepard growled between clenched teeth as she landed a solid punch that left the dark bag spinning and groaning.

"Understood," he replied evenly. "It's just as well, since that wasn't what I wanted to talk about anyway."

Shepard stilled the bag and glanced over her shoulder, her expression dark and guarded. "I get the feeling I should've just talked about the stupid politicians, but I guess it's too late for that now." She leaned into the bag, sighed heavily, and shrugged. "As long as you don't mind talking over my workout."

"I need to know the truth, Shepard. Why'd you pick me?"

"I told you during the mission debrief," Shepard answered carefully, "it was the best strategic choice. You were wounded and we needed that bomb to go off. I had to return to ensure mission success."

"That isn't what I'm asking and you know it. I need you to look me in the eye and tell me the truth: did you come back because of us?"

The exposed muscles along Shepard's back rippled as she unleashed a flurry of punches, the sudden violence telling and frightening. Kaidan stepped forward slowly, carefully, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Don't," she yelled as she ducked out of his grasp and hit the bag with everything she had. "It was supposed to be that simple. You weren't supposed to mean anything to me…. but I fucked up," she shouted, each word punctuated by a harder hit until the bag spun and glistened.

Kaidan lunged forward and pulled the bag away from her reach. His hands came back wet and red. "Stop it damn it, you're hurt," he yelled back. Shepard froze as if hit by stasis, so he stepped closer and gently took her hands. The tape across her knuckles wore through leaving ugly wounds, but they were superficial. The lump along the top side of her hand was not, however. And there was no way she got that from the punching bag.

"It's true, isn't it?" he asked quietly as he stared at the obvious broken bone in her hand, "everything Garrus and Wrex said about the mission… that you disappeared the moment you got my call. That you jumped from the second story rather than wait for the elevator. That they only knew they were on the right path by the geth floating harmlessly, waiting to be picked off, yet you were nowhere to be seen. By the time they reached the LZ you were already there, firmly planted over me like an angel of protection, daring anyone to come near."

Kaidan tore his eyes from her hands and slowly pulled them up to her neck, knowing full-well what awaited. Dark shadows peaked through the concealer in streaks washed away by rivulets of sweat. He delicately traced her throat, his fingers exposing the full extent of the damage. "He held you up by one hand to squeeze the resistance from you, but he underestimated you. And you broke your hand caving in half his face as payment… and you hid it all. You covered your wounds, held them close as your own personal punishment for the way things played out. Am I right?"

Shepard shrugged, eyes firmly locked on the bloody hands in her lap. "I don't remember it being quite that dramatic," she replied softly.

Kaidan chuckled. The familiar humility was comforting, even if he knew it wasn't exactly true. Garrus told him everything, including the way Shepard's nose bled so heavily from overusing her biotics that they thought she was hit, that her blood mingled with his until the water was a dark cloud, but she never swayed. But she didn't need to know that. They could both have their secrets, even if they were the same one.

"So, do you want to talk about the Council now, or should we take advantage of our new free time to explore other things?"


End file.
